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J LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



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1875! 
i UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. ' 



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OF THE 



lin in Sin 



By ESMERALDA BOYLE. 



AUTHOR OF "FELICE.' 



ttetu |]ork 



%HIRG^ 



E. J. HALE & SON, PUBLISHERS, 
Murray Street. 

1875. 






Copyrighted, 1875, 
Bt Miss Esmeralda Boti: 






V 






THIS VOLUME OF POEMS IS DEDICATED 
TO THE DRAMATIST, 

WHO IS A NATIVE OF MARYLAND, IN THE 
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



CONTENTS. 



Page. 

Esperanza 1 

The Image Breaker 11 

Letters of a Poet to his Sister 15 

Echoes 36 

1861-1872 , 38 

The Tear of Promise • 40 

A Dream of the Stars 41 

The Sugar Loaf Mountain 43 

" Love Me Little, Love Me Long ,: 48 

The Place of Dreams 50 

The Days that are Not Yet 53 

The Kniglfts of the Golden Horse-shoe 55 

Abaft the Binnacle 58 

My Sweetheart Muse 60 

To the South 62 

A Legend of the Christmas-tide 64 

The Broken Feast 66 

I Pain Would Enter In 11 

The Good Old Christmas 13 

" The Master is Come and Calleth for Thee " 75 



|0NGS OF THE J^AND >ND §EA. 



'^PERAN^A. 



[This poem was suggested by the musical sound of the word " Esper- 
anza" as uttered by Salvini in his fervent and 'powerful represen- 
tation of Othello.'] 

Along the Chilian coast wild swept the waves, 
And lashed the shore forth reaching to the main, 

Then in their lawless freedom outward rushed, 
And dancing came again. 

Borne on the air that hovered o'er the sea, 
The scent of spice, the fragrances of flowers, 

Were mingled with the odor of the brine, 
As moments among hours. 

As some fair blossom tossed upon a stream, 
Upon the shining ocean's mighty breast 

A white-winged bark moved on, and bearing down, 
Set sail towards the west. 



8 SONGS OF TEE LA2H) AND SEA. 

Oh, Western World — bright Island of the seas, 
Outstretching from rose garlands to the snow, 
And back to banks of coral, bound about 

The South Stream's ceaseless flow ! 

* 

Oh, sweet west Land, Avhere gardens bloom and grow, 
Low lying in the shadow of thy hills, 

That hold within their moss-rimmed hearts the fonts 
Of countless streams and rills ! 

Grand Western Land, by ocean breezes fanned ! 

The land first blessed by him who on thy sod 
Did plant the Cross, as God's divinest mark 

Of love to man from God ! 

Still sailed the " Esperanza " o'er the deep, 
Past verdant isles and peace-inspiring ports, 

Past towering cities shadowed in the sea. 
And guarded by dark forts, 

That in the lessening light of dying clay 

In strongest lines against the sky seemed set, 

While ghost-like through the gloom a sentry moved 
Upon the parapet. 



ESPERANZA. 

A Spanish frigate, girded round with guns 
That frowned from out the ports above the tide, 

And oft in salutation or in scorn 
Sent missiles far and wide, 

That woke a mimic thunder on the sea, 

And from the hills brought echoes in return, 

And made the vessel tremble with a thrill 
That ran from stem to stern. 

She flung at length the banner of old Spain, 
With tints of mid-day wrought upon each fold, 

And over all its breadth of silken pomp 
The mid-day's glowing gold. 

In early days a Princess of Castile 

Had named this ship, as she herself was named. 
And thus a two-fold princess on the sea 

Was " Esperanza " famed. 

Swift, sailing outward to the wave-washed land, 
She left behind the promises of kings, 

And gracious sunlight shone upon her prow, 
As pledge of better things. 



10 SONGS OF THE LAND AND SEA. 

Oh, " Esperanza," sentinel of the Main ! 

Guard well the peace of fair Orescentia's shore, 
Her emblem cross—her bright untarnished shield, 

As in the days of yore ! 

Beloved land, that holdeth in thy clasp 

That lesser breadth of land where Calvert came 

To crown thy lovely hill tops and thy meads 
With his good name and fame ! 

The first of every land in all the world 

Where love of God, in peace, each creed defined ; 
And freedom of the heart was certified 

By freedom of the mind ! 

Where Christian, each, might worship as he willed, 
Where temples throning different faiths arose, 

Where bigot and where martyr, side by side, 
Were shielded from their foes. 

Oh, "Esperanza," sentinel of the Main ! 

Guard well the peace of fair Orescentia's shore, 
Her emblem cross — her bright untarnished shield, 

As in the days of yore ! 



THE IMA GE BREAKER. 11 



Jhe Jjvt^QE Quaker. 



To-day, wlien clouds are dark and drops of rain 
Fall down, to rise in misty wreaths again. 

My muse hath said, 
I would make known to you in mortal phrase 
A romance that I learned in fairer days 

That now are dead. 

A pillared temple, reared by ancient men, 
Whose minds were great beyond the common ken, 

Whose one accord 
Of lofty thought, of noble purposed deed 
Sprang up and grew as from the humble seed 

The forest lord, 

Eaised high its snowy dome, revered of Time, 
Revered of Man for teachings most sublime, 

Defying wrong. 
Encircled by the storm-god's tempest breath, 
The temple stood through Life, from Life to Death, 

White, pure and strong. 



12 SONGS OF THE LAND AND SEA. 

Enshrined within its sacred marble heart 
An image was, more grand than mortal art 

Has since revealed, 
With earnest look of faith, with form so fair, 
Yon would Lave deemed some prisoned spirit there 

By silence sealed. 

And this was Friendship, symbolized of Truth, 
Encrowned by Hope, made beautiful by Youth. 

Held in her hands 
A golden, burnished lamp shed lustrous light 
Adown the path of pilgrims in the night 

Of lonely lands. 

Here friends renewed their vows, embraced and wept, 
Here olden feuds were quenched, here envy slept, 

Xor dreamed one dream. 
Here rested those bent earthward by earth's strife, 
TTho lingered on the border lands of Life 

Near Death's deep stream. 

And thus through ages stood, and changing scene, 
Unbroken and unaltered, and serene, 

Through Time's increase, 



THE IMAGE BREAKER. 13 

The fane, the statue and the lamp of gold, 
As though some magic mantle did enfold 
Their perfect peace. 

One eve, when clouds of white on fields of blue, 
Enwreathed with sunny rays that slanted through 

In royal dyes, 
Across the path that traversed wood and plain 
Came one with downcast look unto the fane 

In pilgrim guise. 

Those high throned creeds by him not understood, 
He hated as revilers Holy-Eood 

Or Crown of Thorns. 
He held within his heart such bitter wrath 
A lesser demon for some mortal hath 

He hotly scorns. 

He hated that rare worker whose deep love 
Shone there as shines the starlight from above 

In radiant gleams, 
As trembling o'er the marble some pure thought 
Beneath the chisel ran, and there en wrought 

A poet's dreams. 



14 SONGS OF TEE LANE ANE SEA. 

He hated, too, the statue carved of stone, 

The regnant queen of that bright temple's throne 

From ages past ; 
He raised his arm, he hurled it from its base, 
Then fled, while Echo moaned through all that place, 

Iconoclast ! 

The Temple quivered, swayed from side to side, 
Then crashing fell, and scattered far and wide 

Those marks divine 
Of Love and Hope, and Peacefulness and Trust, 
That lie forgotten, buried in the dust, 

A broken shrine ! 

Washington, April, 1871. 



LETTERS OF A POET TO HIS SISTER, 15 



THE LETTERS OF A POET TO HIS SISTER. 



JhE JMR£T JITTER, 



'Tis at the dawning of the Spring, 
The silver gates are thrown apart. 

And first of all the throng she walks, 
The chosen princess of my heart ! 

Be patient, you shall hear the song 
That wakes to music all my life; 

The sweetheart poem of my youth, 

Of one whom fate hath named my wife. 

Her eyes are blue as any flowers 
That God's eternal hands have made, 

Such blooms as grow in garden lands 
With much of sunlight, much of shade ! 



16 SONGS OF THE LAND AND SEA. 

The smile that curves her bright red lips 
With all of sad or tender grace, 

Sends blossom tints into her cheeks, 
And casts such glory o'er her face, 

As though, while gazing toward the west, 
Before the coming of the night, 

The brightest gold the sun could give 
Had clad her in its glowing light ! 

]^ot from her lips one word has come 
To tell me of her days gone past, 

Yet with that ken twin spirits feel, 
I know her mine — the first, the last ! 

Full twenty Springs as fair as this 
Have made a carpet for her feet, 

Of greenest sward and freshest buds, 
To ripen in the summer heat. 

Her name is written by the stars, 
When skies are clear and winds are mild, 

>Tis borne upon the meadow brook 
That seems to sing it : Edith Wylde. 



LETTERS OF A POET TO HIS SISTER. 17 



yHE jSecond Letter. 



Against the wiles of love your reason strikes, 
Because you have not yielded, sister mine, 

^or known the strange enth raiment tyrants own, 
And call divine. 

All of divinity some men may know 
Within the wide, deep scope of human life, 

The love that leadeth some to peacefulness, 
Yet more to strife ; 

That makes some think the gates of Heaven's court 
Thrown wide to let an angel enter in, 

Had let some music out upon our world 
Of shame and sin. 

Yet not filled full of shame and sin is it 
Where treadeth gentle Edith. Happy space ! 

There shame Avould seem a shame unto itself, 
And sin disgrace. 



18 SONGS OF TEE LAND AND SEA. 

Think not I note the fate that willed her birth 
In northern lands, wherein the snows lie late. 

Love does not weigh each petty difference 
Of blood or state, 

Your warning I acknowledge as most just, 
My judgment is not blinded by my love ; 

Yet all the lesser hatreds of the world 
I look above. 

I fought my fight as each true soldier should, 
Our cause was lost— our hard won banner torn- 

Of those who conquered us some men are true. 
The false I scorn. 

Yet this fair girl, the Edith of this tale, 

Knows naught of war, of hatred nor regret ; 

Forgive me, dear, if through her I forgive, 
Sometimes forget. 



LETTERS OF A POET TO HIS SISTER. 19 



JhE JhI^D JjETTEF^. 



Be sure, O sister mine ! be sure 

That iu her heart no thought of wrong 

May, by the harshness of its notes, 
E'er mar the beauty of the song. 

That song that makes her perfect life, 
The life that seems of music wrought — 

The music of an inner life — 
The music of creative thought. 

Nor does she stoop to worldly arts 

To add a lustre to her name ; 
The outer gilding weaklings crave, 

And some mistake for worth or fame. 

In days agone, when Worth and Fame 
Did battle each with pen and sword, 

And up the golden stairway sped 
To snatch the crown we now accord 



20 SONGS OF THE LAND AND SEA. 

To him who barters with that coin 
That feeds and fattens common needs, 

That pays the toll to downward paths. 
And serves to stifle noble deeds— 

Before this day her father's sire 
Was deemed a giant in the cause, 

That lifts its stronger voice to plead 
The might and right of nations' laws- 

And backward still through years of Time, 
Uplifted many a warrior face 

Beveals the brow, the calm resolve 
That marks unchanged her line of race. 

The calm resolve that won its way 
Against the buckler and the lance, 

And wove a motto gleaming out 
Amid the lily-flowers of France. 

Her father, with such claims as these, 
Holds low the praise that gold may win, 

And will not enter through the gate 
Thrown wide to welcome traitors in — 



LETTERS OF A POET TO HIS SISTER. 21 

Those traitors to each moral law, 

Who with unblushing faces bold, 
Have choice and preference of place, 

Bought with an unjust steward's gold. 

Such is the story of the blood, 

Whose current floweth through the veins 
Of one who seems a very queen, 

Descended through a hundred reigns. 

Each night that spreads its sombre wings, 

And every dark or shining day, 
Ah, pray I follow Edith Wylde 

Till death, in her most sinless way. 



22 SONGS OF THE LAND AND SEA. 



JhE ]?OUF[TH JaETTEF(. 



Think not because I love her well 
That I must cease to love you, too. 

You had the precedence in love 
Above the few. 

As o'er the fragrances of flowers, 
. Above the sward whereon they grow, 
I hear the songs of flitting birds 
That come and go. 

Now that the autumn days are here, 
With leaves of scarlet, brown and gold- 

The fancies of my poet heart 
In rhymes unfold. 

A silver heading to each line, 
A song beginning always clear, 

A melody as long as life, 
My Edith dear. 



LETTERS OF A POET TO HIS SISTER. 23 

She fills my days with changeless peace, 
She brings me dreams of wedded bliss, 

And yet I wonder if such joy 
Be more than this : 

To see her move with native grace 
Across the lawn to where I stand, 

And place within my firmer clasp 
Her perfect hand, 

White as a lily rimmed with pink, 

A warmer tint within the palm ; 
A pnlse that quickens at my touch, 

And then grows calm ; 

To watch the change from pearl to rose 
That mocks the dawn upon her cheeks j 

To greet the smile that parts her lips 
Whene'er she speaks. 



24 SONGS OF THE LAND AND SEA. 



Jhe "flFTH J>ETTEF(. 



To-day a whisper struck my heart with pain, 
Filled full of late with dreams almost divine 5 

Oh, send your love across this darkened space, 
Fair sister mine ! 

Or else for me the spring will bloom no more, 
Nor sound the summer music of the wood, 

That drowns the clash of evil in the world 
And wakes the good. 

I may not ask the one unnamed, to tell 

The story you may write with firmest hand, 

Because your heart has never trembled, dear, 
At love's command. 

Be swift to let your voice or pen reply, 
To break the thralling spell of this sad dream, 

Through which the story babbles night and day 
As some wild stream 



LETTERS OF A POET TO HIS SISTER. 25 

That dashes on aud on adown the rock, 
And sweeps before the power of its flood 

Each bright spot in its way, as a bad man 
By deeds of blood 



Makes desolate the heart, and hearth and home, 
— Made beautiful with peace that dwelt therein, — 

B;y his inhuman action taught of Gain 
And earned of Sin. 

This story that to me is but half told, 
Is written in the same red blood that flows 

Through her pure veins. To you I tell the half ; 
The whole God knows. 

I learn — ah, me, the pain within my heart ! — 
That in the days when war debased our land, 

The hand I claim was pledged. Her hope was cast 
Upon a strand 

So rugged and so barren, and so dashed 
With those wild waves that ever break and moan, 

And of their bitter kisses leave the mark 
On hardest stone, 



26 SONGS OF TEE LAND AND SEA. 

As records and as warnings written thus : 
A vessel dashed to pieces on this shore ; 

'Twas laden with rich ingots when it sank ; 
It rose no more ! 

With fair white sails it wooed the summer breeze. 

With silken pennant gleaming in the sun 
It broke the waves and flung caresses back 

That it had won. 

Then striking on the rocks hid in the sea, 

She staggered through the darkness of the night ; 

The ocean roared and swept the trembling ship 
From mortal sight ! 



LETTERS OF A POET TO HIS SISTER. 27 



Jhe £ 



IXTH 



Letter. 



I take it as it comes upon the wind : 

The man she loved — I may not name her name — 
Had won the loyal love of a fair girl 

Ere yet he came 

To blight the bloom of my fair Northern Bose, 
To sadden all the smiles upon her mouth, 

To darken the bright ways that led for me 
Through our sweet South. 

The other love he won was deep and warm, 
With all the summer richness and the glow 

Of our dear land, gold girdled by the sun, 
Unchillecl of snow ! 

Her name I know not. I but only know 
Her fame was fair, her heart was pure with youth. 

Her face, they say, was lovely as the Spring. 
Her word was truth. 



28 SONGS OF THE LAND AND SEA. 

He was a man of stature tall and broad, 
His eye was dark and as an eagle's keen— 

A soldier in his strength; a courtier, too, 
In voice and mien. 

His name was Paul — Paul Travers — yet his name 
Is nothing, as his word of plighted trust. 

No stone is on his grave. No flower grows there 
To mark the dust. 

He gained the love of her I love the best. 

She wore a ring for him, and kept it bright 
As armour that her fancy clad him in, 

Her soul's true knight. 

Yet as her days went by, first fair and swift, 
Then darkly draped in curtaining clouds of woe, 

The knowledge came by little words and signs, 
Too fast — too slow. 



LETTERS OF A POET TO HIS SISTER. 29 



JhE jSEVEJMTH JaETTER. 



When Edith learned the faithlessness of vows 
That had been sworn, re-sworn and sworn again, 

She knew her love, that might not he reclaimed, 
Was vowed in vain. 

And yet, though vain, believed she still must wear 
Those chains invisible that held her slave 

Against her will, to that false-hearted man, 
Whom she forgave. 

For women in their weakness hold the strength 
Of something raised so high that we strong men 

May strive, nor reach that height, nor understand, 
Save now and then. 

Once loving, still they love, and still forgive, 
Though bowed in shame or sorrow to the dust. 

The purer spirit triumphs by its force 
Of truth and trust. 



30 SONGS OF THE LAND AND SEA. 

Sometimes the triumph comes too late on earth 
To one who, bending low beneath the rod, 

Grows weary on the way ; but never late 
For grace and God. 

Now, Edith proffers friendship to my love — 
That love that fain would scale the walls of Time, 

To write upon the battlements of Fame 
Her name, in rhyme ! 

Yet think, beloved, of her sorrowed heart ! 

The anguish of her days from end to end. 
~No shadow half so dark, I trust, may fall 

On you, my friend. 

Chilled in the radiant dawning of its hope, 
Love fettered and made captive by surprise. 

A northern morning opening to the gloom 
Of winter skies ! 

Her brother pierced Paul Travers to the heart, 
With quick fierce thrust he rent his life in twain; 

The gurgling gore that crimsoned the white stone 
Still shows its stain. 



LETTERS OF A POET TO HIS SISTER. 31 

'Twas in a sheltered archway of a church, 
Near where a statue stood since early days, 

With silent finger pointing up to God, 
With outward gaze. 

When man to man they clutched with rivalling hate, 
And struggling fell in frenzy's unrestraint, 

Upon the pavement crashed as " dust to dust" 
The marble saint. 

Now send me comfort from your woman's store, 
Must I accept her friendship, tell me, Sweet ? 

Or shall our future, measured by her past, 
Be incomplete ? 



32 SONGS OF THE LAND AND SEA. 



Jhe J^IQHTH J^ETTE^. 



Sweet Woman-poet, Sister-love, 
The first I learned to know and prize ; 

Oh, frank faced girl, of tender voice ! 
Oh, brown, dark eyes, 

Look pity on me. Trust me, dear. 

Forgive ; and lift my heart to yours. 
I as a vessel struggling out 

Leave on the shores 

Glad songs, and laughter, happy homes, 
And fire-lit windows in the night, 

To drift in darkness on the sea 
Bereft of light. 

From Fate's full quiver kindred darts 
Speed sorrow-barbed on their way ; 

One pierced my brain but yester-night, 
My heart to-day. 



LETTERS OF A POET TO HIS SISTER. 33 

No knowledge that I blush to tell, 

In Edith's story I have learned. 
For whom should we the blush call up, 

Where love is spurned ? 

Ah, surely, surely not for her, 

My queenly Edith, fairy flower ! 
Whose love my love had recompensed 

With love's best dower. 

Now turns my faith, my hope to you, 
Who next to God have loved me most, 

Who upward led ray wayward thoughts, 
A marshalled host, 

To higher heights, and purer realms, — 
The land where poet's thoughts have birth. 

Yet ere they plumed their golden wings 
To rise from Earth, 

New born, new crowned, with songs unsung, 

A melody of you and June 
Swept trembling o'er the poet's lyre, 

Half words, half tune. 



34 SONGS OF THE LAND AND SEA. 



Then you it was who, 'pointing up, 

Said, i L Follow where the stars have led ! 

To God, and Truth, and love, and light, 
Tread, onward tread V 



You, with a sorrow in your heart 
Too deep for uttered word or cry, 

Have bid your white despair be still, 
Your tears go by. 

And holding out your hands to me, 

Oh, tender woman, sister mine ! 
You offer comfort born of peace 

Almost divine. 

And so Paul Travers was your love ? 

Paul Travers — Paul — the name that blurred 
The fair white page of that sweet book 

That never erred, 

In any lesson ^Nature taught, 
To her who wrote in purest words 

The songs of streams, of sky, of wood, 
Of swift- winged birds. 



LETTERS OF A POET TO HIS SISTER. 35 

You were tlie maid of Southern clime 

Of whom I wrote, deploring fate 
That led her heart to love the man 

Whom she should hate 

With all the hatred of her race, 
With all the strength of her strong kind, 

With all the magnitude of heart, 
Of soul, of mind ! 

Nor dreamed I that with every thrust 
Your dear heart bled anew in pain, 

And Memory rising crowned afresh, 
Renewed her reign. 

Oh, brave, fair Woman, Sister-love, 

To you I pledge my better days, 
The music of my prophet-muse, 

My harp and bays ! 



36 SONGS OF THE LAND AND SEA. 



fJcHOE^. 



Awake, ye sleeping giants, ye 

Who lie in silence, far below 
The present days that drown the sound 

Of echoes from the long-ago ! 

The long-ago when noble hearts 

Thought noble thoughts of noble deeds^ 

And lovely flowers rose and grew 
Forth from the hearts of sturdy seeds. 

When all the land upheld in pride 

The loyal man of honest fame, 
Whose name was honored for his acts, 

And not his actions for his name. 

When something more than gold was brought 
To pave the way and grace the state 

Of him who stood before the world 
And held within his grasp the fate 



ECHOES. 37 

Of a Republic, staunch and true, 

That nations fain had trampled down, 

Yet saved, perchance till now to writhe 
Beneath the trampling of a clown ! 

(I should not say that any man 

A nation's fate holds in his hand, 
For He who sees each bird that falls 

Will guard the weal of our fair Land. 

And some, perhaps, will stoop or fail, 
And some be faithless to their trust, 

Yet He will guard our Country's weal 
Who sees the blossom through the dust.) 

Awake ! awake ! Arouse the brave, 
The strong of heart, the pure of thought, 

Who do not barter Truth for gold, 
Whose noble actions are not bought ! 



38 SONGS OF THE LAND AND SEA. 



1861-1872. 



Bold hands were prest to the strong sword-hilts,, 
And white with the pallor of hate, 

They fought the fight of passionate men 
In the shadow of Death and Fate. 

The turf made red with the stain of blood, 

May not by the rivers of years 
Be washed again to its fresh, fair tints, 

Till the sighs, the moans, and tears 

Be stilled by the tranquil touch of Time ; 

Till the sound of the Nation's voice 
Proclaims to us in its clarion tones 

Peace ! peace in the land ! Bejoice ! 

The sunlight falls on the rose and palm, 

Yet the curse of a lawless band 
Has slain fair Peace ; and she wakes no more 

Love's laugh in the widowed land. 



1861-18T2. 39 

Let sweet Peace sow with a gracious will, 

Over hill and valley and plain, 
The ripened seed of a loyal trust 

That will grow to shining grain. 

From the shores that wreathe the Southland gulf, 

From the peaks of the icy North, 
The startled cry of a nation's heart 

To the nations rushes forth ! 

From rocks that woo the Atlantic's kiss, 

From Pacific's wild, free slope, 
Eings the cry for Peace from souls of men 

Near the goal of a people's hope ! 



40 SONGS OF THE LAND AND SEA. 



Jhe Year op p^ojvu^E. 

The Year of Promise breaks its way 
Into the fold of Space and Time, 

And loudly ring its matin bells, 
And all its golden lyrics chime ! 

The Past that flits so far away 

Through memory's mist is scarce discerned, 
Yet ere she went, her smiling face 

Towards the Promised Year she turned. 

And all the radiance of her gaze, 
And all her hope went out and bound 

In perfect love the hearts of those 

Who for the Promised Year are crowned. 

With such sweet peace as is their meed 
With all such pure and lovely things, 

As make good women like to queens, 
And honest men seem more than kings. 

1873. 



A DREAM OF THE STARS. 41 



yV J)F(EAM of the jStvvrjs. 



I dreamed that some stars in heaven, 

Beclad in a flood of light, 
Were ranged as the hosts of battle 

On the field of bine, for fight. 

They sped with the speed of meteors, 
And the rays like* golden bars 

Broke through, on the fields of azure, 
The ranks of the lesser stars. 

Some stars in the mystic struggle 
Grew pale in the strife 'and fled. 

They hid in the clouds their faces, 
Their light to the world was dead. 

Yet some through the night went flashing, 
As a bird through ether darts, 

We clasped our hands and awaited 
With fear of God in our hearts. 



42 SONGS OF THE LAND AND SEA. 

When the dream of Life is broken, 
When the roll of Time shall cease, 

Will stars in the sky thus herald 
The Prince of the House of Peace ? 

January, 1874, 



THE S VGA R L OAF MO UNTAIN. 43 



JhE jSllQAR JaOAf ; jVl0UNTAI]Sf. 



Afar the giant Mountain rose to view, 
And out and up our purer feelings grew 
To something good ; 

And dark as are the shadows of Despair, 
The shadows lying long and darkly there 
On rock and wood. 

Yet from the placid sky with azure spread, 
Upon the kingly crest, the royal head, 
The sun shone down, 

As though a spirit band that hovered near 
Had left upon that peak for love or fear 
A golden crown. 

And softly slid the sunlight from that place, 
Till, lost among the shadows at the base, 
It broke and fled 



44 SONGS OF THE LAND AND SEA. 

In tiny flakes of light, in mellow rays, 

Like cherished thoughts of sweet, departed days 

That are as dead. 

i 

We climbed up to the fearful demon's den, 
A throug of fair-faced women, stalwart men, 
With jest and song. 

Far, far beyond our bandit-like retreat 
Potomac ran, a bright, wild love to meet,* 
Then sped along. 

An Indian maid, with rare, untutored grace, 
Bearing her chieftain's arrows to the chase, 
Swift, swiftly on! 

From rock to rock a stone before us flashed. 
Then wandering Echo moaned, as down it crashed, 
Forever gone ! 

Uo, not forever gone ; though rudely tossed 
From thy grand, rocky height, thou art not lost. 
On plain and hill 

* Monocacy. 



THE SUGAR LOAF MOUNTAIN. 45 

With other atoms thou wilt bind the world, 
Although, perhaps, unknown, through darkness 
hurled, 

A white stone still. 

Yet, looking with the eyes of fond Boinance, 
We see thee raised, in later days perchance, 
From thy dim home, 

To deck some mosaic pavement of the mart, 
Some pillared temple reared by modern art, 
Some palace dome ! 

Adown the cliffs, the crags, the rock-bound ways, 
Still droops the Summer's crowning wreath of bays 
O'er brake and glen $ 

And from the kiss of breezes free and wild, 
Looks up the fern, the mountain's well -loved child, 
From cave or fen. 

And far above the clash and worldly din, 
Ah ! far beyond its earthly dust, its sin, 
Are peaceful nooks : 



46 SONGS OF THE LAND AND SEA. 

A tranquil home for some stern, conquered chief, 
Whose cause is lost, who seeks a last relief 
In prayer — or books. 

Far, floating o'er our heads, in ether dim. 
We saw birds whirl — are they more near to Him 
For lifted wings ? 

Ah ! not so near, although they seem more near ! 
Ah ! not so dear, as we to Him are dear 
Beyond all things. 

Down, down we wound, and from the vale at last 
Looked back, as through Life's sorrows to the Past 
Our hearts behold 

The ways that lead from pride of birth or state 
— The little world decrees, its fear, its hate — 
Through gates of gold. 



The air was fresh with rain that fell at noon, 
The hamlet showed, though silvered by the moon, 
Its ancient mode. 



TEE SUGAR LOAF MOUNTAIN. 47 

A drowsy silence lingered there, most sweet, 
As if some olden spirit walked the street 
Where it abode 

In earth-life days, of strength and bravest deeds, 

Ere Freedom's Qneen had donned her sable weeds 

For fallen Truth— 

Ere haggard Vice and Mammon stalked the land, 
And beckoned on to Hell with withered hand 
Oar country's Youth ! 

Out-rang our song, u Good-bye," perchance for aye; 
No, we will drive that tearful thought aw 7 ay 
Forever more ! 

Here is to Hope, the beautiful, the true ! 

Our hearts are thine, we pledge our faith anew, 

Encore ! encore ! 

Montgomery Co., Md., August 29th, 1811. 



48 SONGS OF THE LAND AND SEA. 



" JaOVE *JVIe JalTTiLE, J.OVE ^JVlE JaOJMQ. 



" Love me little, love me long," 
Through the spring-time rain and sun, 

Through the might of Right and Wrong, 
When the days of youth are done. 

In the Noon tide's glorious glow, 
When the Evening mounteth high, 

On her throne of gleaming snow 
In her pageant robes to die, 

With pink flushes on her cheek, 
With gold arrows in her hand, 

Pointing upward to each peak, 

Where her marshalled armies stand ; 

When the rose has lost its bloom, 
When the leaves are dropping down, 

In the Autumn's purple gloom, 
On the grasses sear and brown ; 



" LOVE ME LITTLE, LOVE ME L ONG. ' ' 49 

When the Bird shall fold its wings, 

And in silence hold its song, 
With that peace the Twilight brings, 

" Love me little, love me long." 

March 22d 1814. 



50 SONGS OF THE LAND AND SEA. 



JhE pJLACE OF pREAM£. 



Far over the limits of Race and Time, 
Runneth a river in rarest rhyme. 

Along the shore 
Is a Country, peopled not overmuch, 
That claimeth and holdeth only such 

As know its lore. 

Its wonderful Temple, that pointeth high, 
In silvery curtainings of the sky, 

Is half-way lost. 
With glorious jewels of flashing tire 
Forth from each white, celestial spire 

Are banners tossed. 

There are beautiful birds that now and then 
Float up from the crowded Land of Men, 

Into that world, 
To gather the songs that trembling there, 
Sail slow on the languid mid-day air, 

That seems impearled 



TEE PLACE OF DREAMS. 51 

In a marvelous mist of gold and blue, 
Where odors of violets wafted through, 
Are stirred by the birds of the swiftest wing, 
That gather the notes of songs of Spring 
For mortal ears. 

And these are the sighs and the heart-wrung 

moans 
That sink into chords of tender tones, 

And ripple to tears. 
And these from a soul's un gained desire, 
Sweep from the strings of a poet's lyre 

Through lapsing years. 

Now uttering brief — now lingering long, 
In unlearned measures of untaught song, 

Their peace or pain. 
Thus borne are our thoughts to the shell-rimmed 

shore, 
The Palace of Poets, whose open door 
Leadeth us in from the Place of Dreams, 
Where wandereth out from musical streams 

That which is heard 

In the voice of a bird : 



52 SONGS OF THE LAND AND SEA. 

The pseans it snatched from the far off land, 
Of turrets and domes, where the singers stand, 
Who wear unchanged the immortal crown, 
Kingliest, queenliest, Just Eenown ! 

Washington, D. 0.,Nov., 1815, 



THE DA YS THAT ARE NOT YET -53 



JHE pAY£ TH/T yVRE HOT Y^T. 



Before us lie rare summers rich with roses, 

And thrilled with water-music not yet heard. 
Hark ! just as day glides thro' the pale of twilight, 
A sweet voiced bird 

Sings out its song that slides into the silence — 

Then all the shining leaves upon the trees 
Dance, and a sound like laughter or swift clapping 
Comes on the breeze. 

Above our path the white moon glides beyond us, 
And clouds make fleeting shadows as they pass, 
And in the mellow light the crystal dew-drops 
Gleam on the grass, 

As though an eastern princess or a fairy, 

With lips that smile, with eyes that darkly frown, 
Had cast on hill and glade a jeweled sceptre, 
A zone, a crown. 



54 SONGS OF IHE LAND AND SEA. 

O, Time, unborn ! so sweet in future story ! 

As sweet as are these days of sun and rain, 
Sweet as past days that our fond hearts in dreaming 
Seek out again ! 

The days that are not yet in light or shadow, 

May give us sleep beneath the grass un grown, 
Graced by some plant with leaflets yet unmoulded^ 
With blooms unblown. 

September 8, 18^2. 



THE KNIGHTS OF THE GOLDEN HORSE-SHOE. 55 



JhE •J^JMIQHT^ OP THE <€joj.DEJM j4o^£E-j3HOE. 



With the clang of the hoofs of horses 
The vales and mountains rang, 

And borne on the breeze of the summer, 
Were soncrs the soldiers san«'. 



"&• 



In the shade of the leaf-clad branches, 

Beneath the shielding blue, 
As the green leaves quivering parted, 

Bright rays went sliding through. 

Through the reeds of the wind-swept meadow, 

By gray old cliffs and crags, 
Where the blossoming pink of laurel 

Waved like a thousand* flags, 

A stream with the gleam of a sabre 
Fled through the wood and grass, 

As a loud, free laugh in the echo 
Breaks through a mountain pass. 



56 SONGS OF TEE LANE ANE SEA. 

And on, on through the dew-dashed shadows, 

Full loud the soldiers sung, 
And clear on the air of the morning 

The sound of horse-hoofs rung. 

And the same sweet air that in blowing 

Had brushed the rose's bloom, 
Now swept o'er the brow of the leader, 

And touched his scarlet plume. 

In the days of valorous glory, 

Heeding his soul's behest, 
He fought in the fight at Blenheim, 

Fought with a knightly zest ! 

Ah ! brave heart of the Old Dominion ! 

* Chief, and maker of laws, 
In the van of the grand old legions, 

Gone with the chosen cause ! 

* " Alexander Spotswood, a soldier who had been wounded at 
Blenheim. Under his leadership the mountains were crossed, and 
the beautiful valleys beyond were made known. On his return he 
presented to each of the companions of his journey a golden horse- 
shoe." — [Holmes's History. 



THE KNIGHTS OF THE GOLDEN HORSE-SHOE. 57 

Yet as bold as my wilful fancy, 

Back from the times of yore, 
And into this dream of the summer 

Those who have gone before 

Wind down from the peaks to the meadow,1 

Beyond the stalwart trees, 
Where the sun-lighted guidon nutters, 

Stirred by the morning breeze. 

With the clang of the hoofs and armour 

The vales and mountains ring, 
And borne on the breeze of the summer 

Are songs the soldiers sing. 

September 18, 1872. 



58 SONGS OF THE LAND AND SUA, 



^BAFT THE }3lNJMy\CLE. 



Abaft the binnacle sat the boy, 
And over the waves of ocean blue 

His gaze was fixed, and I knew his heart 
Led over the waves and out to you. 

Across his face swept ever the tide 

Of dreamy thought, to the days agone, 

And by the light in his deep dark eyes 
I knew of the spell that led him on. 

The night came down with a fiend-like storm, 
A fiery flash and a shrieking wind, 

And following on like a serpent's trail 
The gleam on the sea we left behind. 

The morning broke with a deadened calm, 
With tattered sails and a shattered mast j 

We steered our course to the distant land, 
And left the storm in the blackened Past. 



ABAFT THE BINNA CLE. 59 

The boy was gone from the staunch old deck, — 
In the serpent trail of the ship's broad wake, 

That chased us clown through the fearful night, 
His soul rushed out ere the morning's break. 

Only this picture I sketch for you, 

Who stirred his life with a strange, wild joy j 
That while his heart sailed over the sea 

Abaft the binnacle sat the boy. 

June 4, 1874. 



60 SONGS OF THE LAND AND SEA. 



^JVIy Sweetheart ^VIu^e. 



The summer has touched with her wand of gold 

The blades of wheat, 
That ripple aud sway in the breeze that breaks 

The noontide heat. 
Through the shadowy lanes that upward lead 

From glen and dell, 
As the loitering kine stroll slowly home, 

We hear the bell 
That ringeth a peal on the air, made sweet 

With falling dews, 
And wooeth her out of her castle high, 

My sweetheart-Muse ; 
Who glideth forth at the close of the day, 

With look serene, 
In amber and rose, with silver girt, 

A crowned queen. 
Sweeter than life is the love we give 

And never obtain. 
Sweeter than life the hopes we hope, 

Although in vain. 



MY SWEETHEART MUSE. 61 

Yet sweeter than earthly hope or love 

The one I choose 
To walk in the path of life with me, 

My sweetheart muse ! 

Maryland, June 12, 1874. 



62 SONGS OF THE LAND AND SEA. 



Jo THE JSOUTH. 



My free wild Love, I love thee ! 

Fair as the sun-gold's shine ! 
Bright is the sky above thee, 

O, free wild love of mine ! 

Strong with the strength of valor- 
Graced with a knightly grace. 

First in the lists of battle — 
First in the world's high place ! 

Oh, brave, fair Love, we greet thee- 
Land of the mighty life ! 

Land of the soul of sorrow ! 
Land of the chosen strife ! 

Heart of the rushing river ! 

Home of the wild-wood lord ! 
Land of the silent soldier ! 

Land of the faithful sword ! 



TO THE SOUTH. 63 

Land of the " Conquered Banner !" 

Land of the rose and vine ! 
Bright is the sky above thee, 

Thou free wild love of mine ! 



March 1th 1875. 



64 SONGS OF THE LAND AND SEA. 



^ JjEQEJND OF THE £hF[I£TMA£-TIDE. 



Full high on the rounded hill tops, 
Deep, deep in the valleys below, 

And over the Queen's grand garden 
Was falling the feathery snow. 

In the still white marble palace, 
And as pure as the snow that fell, 

The weary soul of a woman 
Was wearily sighing farewell j 

Where, scattered in strange confusion, 
There were silks and jewels and lace, 

That glared with a pale cold lustre 
Through gloom, in that sorrowful place. 

From the rare bright silks and jewels 
The dying one turned to depart, 

Her heart in their clasp was breaking, 
Ah, what were they now to her heart ! 



A LEGEND OF THE CHRISTMAS-TIDE. 65 

Death shades were drearily flitting" — 

Flitting over her lace full fair ; 
A priest in his robes was kneeling — 

An old priest with silvery hair. 

Opened the door of the chamber 
Widely — wide with a noiseless swing — 

There entered a rag-clad beggar — 
A beggar who trod as a king ; 

And these are the words he uttered : 

"Behold, I have come through the storm ! 

You gave me bread when I hungered, 
And you clothed me and made me warm I" 

The priest with the hair like silver 
Looked up, but the vision had fled ; 

He knelt alone in the chamber 
Where the woman was lying dead. 

Yet down through the great, sad silence 
Came the chords of a harp's gold strings, 

The sweep of invisible garments, 
And the rustle of angel wings. 

LOFC. 6 



66 SONGS OF THE LAND AND SEA. 



Jhe |3f[oken f^A^ T - 



All, the chimes of merry Christmas 

Ring out gaily on the breeze, 
Yet the feasts that I remember 

Were more beautiful than these ! 

All the grandeur we could gather, 

Every treasure we could bring, 
"We did cast before the altar 

Of Emanuel, the King. 

Like the rushing sound of pinions, 

In the land where all is fair, 
Was the throbbing of the music 

As it beat against the air. 

* Bathed in semblance of the moonlight 
Were the pictured hills and sward, 

* It is a custom in Catholic countries to erect during the Christ- 
mas-tide representations of the manger. These picturesque nooks 
are adorned with miniature rocks, moss-banks and trees. Figures of 



TEE BROKEN FEAST. 67 

And the manger where the princes 
Knelt in homage to our Lord. 

And, when at the solemn warning ' 

Every knee was bended low ; 
Ah ! we felt that God was near us 

In His robes as white as snow. 

It was thus He taught the fishers, 

As their teachings all are told, 
And our hearts believe those teachings, 

As the fishers did of old. 

i 
Now, forever and forever 

Comes the memory to me 

Of the music that I hear not, 

For the sobbing of the sea ; 

And as moaning, mournful billows, 
With their sad and ceaseless roll, 

Are the longings that go outward 
To the country of my soul. 

hovering angels and kneeling shepherds are gathered in groups. 
Thus are Catholic children taught of the coming of the Royal Re- 
deemer, as others are taught to honor soldiers and statesmen through 
monuments and "legal" public holidays. 



SONGS OF THE LAND AND SEA. 

Hold thy peace, young Koman rebel I 
Wherefore weep, Italian child % 

Bather laugh above the shackles 
That did make thy land defiled ! 

Lo ! the conqueror lias conquered, 
And no greater lives than he ; 

Now rejoice with all thy people 
That fair Italy is free ! 

In the soft and dreamy cadence 
Of the master-poet's clime 

Spake the youth in lowly murmurs, 
And his face was made sublime : 

I was reared within the shadow 
Of the ancient church at Borne, 

Whence I saw the evening sunlight 
Fling its gold upon the dome j 

And this cross that I am wearing 
Is the cross my mother wore 

When the army of King Victor 
Swept before our cottage door. 



THE BROKEN FEAST. 69 

God's bright sun was shining on us, 

On the cross its glory flashed, 
And a soldier stooped to snatch it 

As the troopers onward dashed. 

Then, as with a new won courage, 

Down I struck his coward arm. 
Pale, like marble, stood my mother 

In her womanly alarm. 

Then my father, the staunch guardian 
Of our home-loves and our hearth, 

With the fierceness of a lion 
Hurled and crushed him to the earth ! 

Now, it seemed a dozen vandals 
Joined them in one traitor's part — 

Sent their deadly sabres flashing 
To my father's noble heart. 

So he died, and just beside him 

Fell my mother's stately form, 
Then the soldiers fled and left us. 

There are clouds before the storm ! 



70 SONGS OF THE LAND AND SEA. 

Ah, if this dark woe be freedom 
That has wrought our lives such pain,. 

Give us back the chains of bondage 
That will make us slaves again ! 

Yes, the chimes of merry Christmas 
Ring out gaily on the breeze, 

Yet the feasts that I remember 
Were more beautiful than these. 

"Washington, D. C. December, 1812. 



I FAIN WOULD ENTER IN 71 



| ]VVJN WOUJ.D ^]\(TEF{ |jsf. 



I heard the moaning wind beat on the wall; 

It made the tender twigs and dead leaves fall j 
It rushed from door to casement with its din j 
It seemed to say, " I fain would enter in — 
Thee I implore !" 
Yet, though the wind blasts o'er the heath were 
hurled, 
The calm, queen-moon was reigning o'er the world j 
The moonlight past the leafless branches crept, 
And through the clear, cold panes in silence swept 
Down to the floor. 

" I fain would enter in," by night and day 
Sings Sin, the beautiful, in fair array. 

We open out our soul's close-barre'd gate, 
Then enters the long train : First, Pride elate. 
With visage bold ; 

Last, dark-browed Envy comes, unsatisfied 5 
Forever crying, " Open wide, more wide ! 



72 SONGS OF THE LAND AND SEA. 

We will not part with thee through Life's great 
space ; 
Deny us not thy soul's most sacred place 
To have and hold." 

" I fain would enter in," our Lord doth say, 

" To still thy sobs, to chase thy tears away — 
To lull thy aching heart in perfect rest ; 
Ah, lay thy weary head upon my breast ! 
I am the Son, 
Sent down as a Eedeemer to the earth, 

Who, in a lonely manger-crib, sought birth j 
Crowned, heart and brow, with thorns, for wayward 
men, 
And died upon a rough, hard cross — what then, 
Beloved one V ' 

July, 1873. 



THE GOOD OLD CHRISTMAS. 73 



JhE £rOOD ^D £l4RI£TJVlA£. 



And so the good old Christinas comes again ! 

The merry Christmas of our vanished years ; 
With all its tender beauty and its mirth. 
Its silent tears. 

Green with the fair remembrances of youth, 
And garlanded with hopes of better days ; 
Those olden mottoes of the Christmas-tide, 
Filled full with praise. 

Filled with the praiseful voices of the spring, 

The murmuring streamlets of the summer glade 
Oh, Christmas days of sorrow and of joy, 
Of sun, of shade ! 

Filled full with red and gold of autumn tints, 

Filled with the ice-glints of a Northern clime ; 
Oh, ghosts of gone-by Christmases, recall 
The olden time ! 



74 SONGS OF THE LAND AND SEA. 

The olden time of purer thoughts and ways, 
The olden time of purer words and songs, 
When men at holy Christmas-tide undid 
Their baleful wrongs. 

The wrongs that murder love, and peace and fame, 
The wrongs that turn man's friendship into hate ; 
The wrongs that make forgiveness and regret 
To plead too late ; 

Too late for that poor heart they broke in haste — 

Late for the life that may not come again — 
Yet not too late for God, whose charity 
Is as the rain, 

Plenteous and refreshing, and most good, 

And beautiful as silver in the sun ! 
Or bright as is an angel's diadem 
For victories won ! 

November, 1875. 



" THE MASTER IS COME AND OALLETH FOR THEE." 75 






The Master is come and calleth for thee 
Across the grain-decked field, the barren moor ! 
List ! For He knocketh at the palace gate, 
The cottage door. 

He speaks to thee in Wisdom's golden tongue, 
From children's lips He calls to thee again : 
u Let not my coming here be welcomeless, 
Nor yet in vain ! 

" In royal robes I stand, on marble floors, 
With kingly hands stretched forth I call to thee, 
Wait not the coming night — the trumpet's sound 
To rise and flee ! 

" Now while the morning is — before the night 
Falls darkling o'er the dust of utter dearth, 
Eise thou and follow. Make thy garments clean 
From stain of earth ! 



76 SONGS OF THE LAND AND SEA. 

u With thorn-pierced brow upturned I plead to thee, 
I wait in lowly places for thy alms ! 
With aching heart, with lingering weary feet, 
With nail-torn palms !" 

u xhe glory of the Son forever is !" 
We hear the angels singing far away, 
As they draw near to portals opening out 
From inner day. 

Wait thou ! wait thou ! His coming is not far. 
He loves thee well ! The step of love goes swift, 
O lids that droop, 6 eyes made dim in tears, 
Uplift! Uplift! 

Uplift thine eyes ! Ah, see the Light is come ! 
Uplift thine heart ! nor let thy heart hold tears. 
He comes to thee adown the narrow vale 
Of blighted years ! 

Arise, thou dreaming ones, and watch with us, 
Lest in the vaults of death thy lamps grow dim : 
Up narrow ways, that lead from Death to Life, 
Go wait for him. 

May 2, 18U. 






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